


Trapped in Silk

by Doctor_T



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: #Oh what a beautiful morning, Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Angst, Beautiful Scenery, Bisexual John Watson, Bisexuality, Boarding School, Brief homophobia, Bullied Sherlock Holmes, Crying John Watson, Depressed Sherlock Holmes, Depression, Drug Use, F/F, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, Good John Watson, Healing, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Non-Explicit, Recovery, Romantic Fluff, Roommates, School, Sherlock is a Mess, Slow Burn, Teenlock, Young John Watson, Young Love, Young Sherlock, more than kissing, suppression
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 12:54:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28653816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doctor_T/pseuds/Doctor_T
Summary: In world where John has lost his mother and Sherlock has nothing more to lose they find them sharing a room at Lochend Academy, the academic boarding school in Scotland. Both are afraid to let someone new in but surely one friend couldn’t hurt.
Relationships: Mary Morstan/John Watson, Molly Hooper/Greg Lestrade, Sherlock Holmes & John Watson, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 9
Kudos: 2





	Trapped in Silk

**Author's Note:**

> Hello to all or anyone reading this! I am a completely new writer and have never written anything like this before so any feedback good, bad or indifferent would be so so appreciated. This is going to be long so be prepared. So yeah that’s me enjoy.

Shuddering he awoke, covered in sweat with his face strewn with what were most likely tear tracks but they couldn’t be told apart from the sweat. Again, the lingering thoughts of mum traced his memories and followed him from his nightmare as his eyes adjusted to the darkness of his bedroom. He hadn’t had a good night's sleep in over two weeks and the only night he did was from the complete debilitating exhaustion of the funeral. God the funeral, he thought as another wave of grief, loss, hopelessness, and the guilt ran through his body. Why did he cry so much at the funeral? It was his fault she lay in a box 6ft under, he let her die, killed her by proxy, didn’t he? Yes of course he did. If he had gotten there quicker, put more pressure on the stab wound or clean the area first to stop the infection that in the end would eventually kill her. His dad, his sister and he stood helplessly as her eyes flickered shut for the final time as the said infection took control of everything; taking her from them.

John's mum was only conscious a few times over the week she spent in the hospital, the first three days she was in a medically induced coma. When she awoke first she was so confused and was screaming for John as she couldn’t quite work out where she was, and that they were no longer under the threat of being attacked. It broke John's heart to hear those screams to be helpless, to be useless (yet another reason to become a doctor, to be useful, to be worth the breath he breaths rather than standing on the other side of the glass awaiting the verdict of fate) and without comfort for his dying mother.

The next time she awoke John was at her side ready to calm her and spend some precious moments with her but he was sent away as she asked for his dad, David. This hurt John, the woman who used to tuck him into bed each night, hold him when there was a storm; coldly sent him away, but John knew it wasn't coldness, he desired to be close to her that made him feel like that. 

The way he saw the doctors sharing side glances and the softness of the nurses, told him she was living her final moments and it made sense to want to be with her husband. So on that day, he took Harry for a walk as they had hardly left the hospital never mind fitting in time for a leisurely stroll. They grabbed cheap coffee from the hospital café and made out into the cold late January afternoon as the sun started to set casting burning light across London. John's cynical side thought how fitting that the sky should burn just as the life he had was ripping itself up into embers, awaiting a slight gust of wind so a great fire could alight and destroy anything that was still standing. 

They walked in silence through the bustling streets until they reached a fairly isolated park with huge trees to act as protection from the outside world and found a park bench to take a seat. The silence lingered for some time longer but John could tell that time was passing as his hands became uncomfortably cold so he clenched them around his empty coffee cup. That's when Harry blurted 

“It’s not your fault John” he startled and let out a sad weak laugh of dismay.

“N, John you need to listen to me you can't keep doing this to yourself. You are eating yourself from the inside out, she will be fine.” John snapped his head around to Harry at the last comment, his mouth hanging slightly open. John made a sad sound and dropped his head into his hands sending a ripping pain through his still-healing shoulder from where the man had attempted to make a killing stab but John had moved just enough for it to miss any vital areas of his body. He had forgotten like he so frequently did that Harry, brave strong Harry was only 13 and that there was still a naivety that lay in her and that he was now going to be the one who destroyed it, shattering her childhood with the wrecking ball of their mother’s imminent death. “It’s not okay, she’s not going to be okay, Harry” John sobbed, when had he started crying?. At this news, John expected; well what had he expected, tears, a tantrum? He wasn't sure but when Harry got up and said “Well I'll see you at the hospital Johnny", he knew he hadn't been expecting that.

After an indiscernible amount of time later worry took over John's conscience so he began his walk back to the hospital, finding his leg was getting worse and worse over these past few weeks. Finding he was now limping quite considerably.

…

Upon arrival to his mum's room, he found his mum asleep with his dad sitting in the chair next to the bed as Harry lay across his lap and seemed to be sleeping as well but John could still make out pained sobbing noises escaping her mouth. John's dad made eye contact with him putting a finger up to his mouth still rubbing Harry’s back in a soothing motion in an attempt to calm her from what was undoubtedly the news he had broken to her earlier in the day. 

He felt like he'd faint, the sight before him was like watching the cracks run through the walls ready to collapse any moment. He’d put them there when he begged his mum to take him into London to go last-minute Christmas shopping when he did stop her being stabbed when he didn’t… A searing pain charged through his leg up to his shoulder clouding his mind. He heard his breaths reverberate through his skull as the black spots covered his vision and he fainted.

…

-

After pushing all the thoughts away John looked out his window at the clear night's sky but only spotting a few constellations due to the light pollution London so fervently exuded. Oh! how much he wanted to see all the stars on a clear night in the highlands of Scotland, where there wouldn’t be light for miles. 

Sometimes he felt guilty about being awarded the scholarship to study at Lochend Academy, for wishing to leave his family, for something better when they needed him when he made that promise to his mum on her final day, when he was allowed to finally have her to himself and soak her into his memory.

“John, my Johnny you have to be the strong man, I know you are. I know what you” there was a pause as she let out a shuddering breath

“you and Harry and David” another pause where her eyes unfocused and then refocused again. Her tone was much softer now

“Dad might become when I'm gone. They need you, Johnny, dad's not as strong as he thinks he is and Harry is too young and you are the only one who can save them from themselves.” A tear tracked its way down her face and John lent forward to wipe it away and kissed her forehead. Her skin was so cold.

“ Promise me you'll be there for them and yourself. I know you would give every single blood cell you own if you thought it would make someone smile but you are just as important”, she was now actively crying as her voice cracked over those last words which inturn triggered John's tear response and he cried.

“I don't know how mum, you can't leave me, I can't be good like you, I can't .. I can't save them… Us like you did. Please, mum, please.”

“I'm going to miss you so much Johnny and I know you miss me too despite you being super cool and all that nonsense”. Still sobbing John let out a small laugh at this. He looked up from the ground into her eyes, her peaceful eyes as she said in a feeble voice.

“I know, it's okay, I know, but you're not alone you will find love again, it doesn't die with me so find it Johnny, find it for me and you.”

That was it. The machines around them started making a cacophony of awful sounds so he stood, kissed the cold skin on his mother's forehead for the last time and simply left the room again limping but this time with the stuck the hospital had issued him uttering “I will try mum for you I will always try.”

…

Stop it. He was supposed to choose when to remember his mother and these moments... He was supposed to be in control, not the other way around. 

It was 5:58 so there was no point going back to bed. He had a lot to get through that day so he stripped his bed of their sweat covered sheets and dumped them and his pyjamas into the washing basket and put the shower on. He needed to clear his head to face his last day before the new beginning. 

He always used to sing, well hum at least in the shower firstly; because it annoyed Harry who would most likely be sitting with one of her friends and would be mortified at John's slightly too loud musical attempts,and second, not that he'd admit to this, because he loves singing but hadn't done so in public since he left the choir when his voice dropped and he went to secondary where it was apparently 'not cool' to be in the church choir with a load of prepubescent boys and snobbish girls. That was also where he had met Mathew but no, another train of thought he wasn't going to go down, especially not while naked in a shower as his family began to wake up.

He got changed into his comfiest clothes as he doubted he'd have time to leave the house with all the tasks he'd postpone doing over the last weeks and by weeks he means since he got the acceptance letter for Lochend Academy boarding school back in April.

He made some mashed banana on toast and a cup of tea to start the day and as he walked over to the table he caught sight of the school issue trunk looming in the corner reminding him that he was about to leave his family from tomorrow (18th August) to Christmas. There was an extended weekend in October but apart from that, he'd be stuck in Scotland miles away from his little home in London's suburbs.

Distracting him from his thoughts was a very tired, very grumpy looking Harry who was now 14 aka at the age for John to be the annoying condescending big brother and it would serve as a nice distraction for now.

“You know Harry I don't think I heard you come home last night. I was awake until after 1:00 am so where might have you been? Oh ray of sunshine! Hmm?”

“Shut up John.”

“Now that no way to speak to your poor concerned big brother is it?” He said jabbing her in the ribs to make her laugh.

“No Jo… Uggghhh no.” John final gave out with a  _ very _ wide grin on his face for successfully annoying but also cheering up Harry.

“You know,” she said “ when you come stumbling in the door late I'm nice to you and make you coffee and…”

John raised a sceptical eyebrow at this

“And stuff” she huffed.

“No you do not, but, I'm only kidding I just boiled the kettle so I'll make you a cup of tea and there is half a banana left if you want it with some toast or whatnot,” he said shuffling out of his seat and moving towards the cupboard for a mug. His leg was better these days. He'd still experience the pain after a nightmare or a stressful day or sometimes just the cold would set it off. That was most likely because the cold reminded him of that day rather than an actual physical effect to his leg. But he could never be sure when a bad day would come around, and when it would be altogether too painful to walk without the aid of a stick. So to his dismay, he would have to bring the damned thing to school with him for the next week at least. The idea of appearing to be dysfunctional or a pity case was terrible enough but if he collapsed in the absence of it, that would be simply unacceptable, well, to him at least.

  
  


Once Harry had a cup of tea and John had a fresh cup they sat together at the little table knowing their dad wouldn’t be home for some time yet as he was working the night at the troubled young peoples’ homes as a residential counsellor. So now that he had got he pokes in at Harry and she was less grumpy he thought he’d have his little chat with Harry.

“So it was Clara's party last night, yes?” He asked cautiously.

“Mmhhh” Harry noncommittally replied to her tea.

“Was it fun?”

“Yes”

“So how is Clara doing anyway?”

“Oh my god, you think aha no she’s, well... no we’re just really good friends.” At this John tried to hide his smile in his teacup and wondered how long it would take Harry to notice that they were so much more than just “really good friends” but he wasn’t going to push it so he just hoped they noticed before it was too late. Mathew. Nope, not now.

“Anyway John you need to start packing that monster of a trunk there or you’ll never get it done." After a brief moment, Harry said in a much more timid tone “eh, can I, can I help you pack because you know I want to spend some time before you abandon us.” He knew she was joking about the last bit but he was also glad she suggested so he wouldn’t have to. 

She then blurted

“Your fashion sense is also awful and if you want to make any sort of good impression on those posh boys you will be needing my help.” John gave a mock offended look and then gestured toward the case and they both picked it up, abandoning their tea and hauling it up to John's bedroom.

…

After almost two hours of pulling every item of clothing from John's cupboard and chest of drawers his room looked like a bomb site. The trunk was packed full to the brim with all his clothes and other necessities, and John lay on the floor while Harry sat on a small pile of clothes mainly jumpers, that she was definitely and unequivocally not letting John take to school as in her words 'would look like a washed-up old Fishman ready to disintegrate any moment' which John took great offence to, especially because two of them were his absolute favourites. He was still plotting on how he would steal them back and slip then into the trunk. 

While he was mid-thought they heard their front door open and Harry jumped up and ran downstairs to hug their dad. John slowly got up and followed.

Seeing his dad and Harry hug made him slightly happy. Knowing his dad still loved them and this was about his only way of showing it these days. He let go of Harry saying a short good morning and looked up at John on the stairs and held his gaze, eyes locked for longer than strictly necessary. They told a whole story in that look of ‘I love you and I am going to miss you so much’ as his dad replied with ‘I know John I love you too’.

Because of his dad now working night shift’s they never got to see him apart from when he left and returned for work so it made these little moments precious. John knew he had started taking nights after their mum died because he couldn’t bear to be around them to deal with the pain of losing his wife. It was too hard for him to pretend and put up a front for them so he isolated himself this way. To Harry, however, it was because they needed more money since they now only had one income to rely on which wasn’t technically a lie but it was the truth their dad had told them in hope of sparing them. That’s what it was all about sparing them from the debilitating grief their father had taken the burden of.

  
  


David had gone off to bed but not before taking a detour to the kitchen to grab a glass of amber coloured liquid, which didn’t go unnoticed by John (not that he did anything about it but he saw, he always saw). It was yet another coping mechanism but he could hardly be the judge of that.

One night many months ago on a Saturday night when Harry was out and John had declined all invitations to see his friends. David and he were found in the sitting room David with too much alcohol in his system and John too scared to fall asleep because of the nightmares. John's dad turned to him and said out of the blue in a shaking and heartbroken voice.

“You know why I don’t hug you anymore Johnny? Hm? It’s because you are too like her, you’re the spitting image of her and I know everyone says we are the same but you are so much better than me you are her your eyes, your manner, kindness are all from her and it kills me to see it in you and not being able to see it in her anymore. I take the nights at home with a glass of whisky to stop remembering her and to hide my pain from Harry and you because I’m not strong enough to be there for you both so I hide it like a coward and I know how disappointed in me she is, no would be and when I look in your eyes all I can see is that disappointment. Oh god, John, I’m so sorry” he then got up and walked out tears in his eyes while he lay a hand on John's shoulder saying again.

“I’m sorry John, I’m so sorry.”

John was left speechless that night and fell onto his bed trying to suffocate his crying so as to not cause any more pain to the people he loved. He hadn’t shared a real conversation with his father since, only knowing looks and pain-filled glances as they passed in the corridors knowing how much hurt they were causing each other by simply being there so behind closed doors they would beg the other end this thing between them so John could have his much-needed dad back and David; his beloved son, but both knew they could never get back what they lost when she died so their endless mourning lived on.

  
  


Jonh nd Harry traipsed back upstairs into John's room where the conversation was stiff at first as John was still preoccupied with the thoughts of his and his father’s relationship but eventually it soothed and they were chatting like they always had, poking fun at each other and laughing at stupid jokes. God, he’d miss this.

Lunch came and went as the day slipped on and Harry and he found themselves in John's room yet againz scrolling through pictures of themselves on their phones until Harry spotted a picture and almost fell over laughing.

“Oh my lord please don’t tell it’s what I think that is!”

“Harry it’s just the school uniform and the uniform for formal events at Lochend.”

“No John that’s absolutely tragic it’s a bloody suit and a skirt! Do they really expect you to wear that?”

“Firstly it’s a kilt and it is worn for the biannual school ceilidh and secondly yes, I know it’s a bloody suit I have one sitting in my cupboard which I’ll be wearing tomorrow thank you very much and I think it’s quite stylish.”

“That doesn’t make it any better by the way, but more importantly put it on.” John gave her a very stern 'no don’t test me on this we are not doing that' look but Harry was grinning almost wickedly showing absolutely no sight of retreat and then put on her most puppy-like eyes and said:

“Oh please Johnny, just for me.” And in a split second of weakness, he dropped his guard and she pounced from the bed flinging the cupboard doors open grabbing the navy blue suit thrusting it towards John. She then marched out of the room and held the door so her brother could not escape the room without her letting him.

“I’m not going to open the door until you put on the suit, tie and all remember.” She said in a sing-song voice.

After a moment’s grumbling, John began to change into the navy blue suit partnered with a black belt and maroon tie which was apparently his house and year colour. He had both a plain white shirt to be worn under the tie and a light blue to be worn above and to top it all off there was a pocket-handkerchief to be arranged in the left breast pocket. There was also a gown that was worn to assemblies and academic events but there was no way in hell he was going to tell Harry that. 

“I’m changed, Harry open the door.”

“Tie and all?” She cooed.

“Yes, I’m wearing the damn tie hurry up.” That's when she swung open the door and gasped.

“Well Johnny you are quite the man now aren’t you? Who would have thought that the boy from the rough end of London would be hiking off to boys boarding school in Scotland… somewhere in a fancy suit. God, I bet it's worth more than the house.”

“Mmmm you are probably right and I have two more of them as well waiting for me at the school in my dorm room. Christ, I can’t believe this is real.”

  
  


…

The night trickled through the windows of John's bedroom and he began getting ready for bed feeling far more tired than he would have expected. It was an uncharacteristically cold night for the end of a London summer so he slipped downstairs for a hot water bottle, knowing his father would be getting up soon for his shift and he didn’t want to disturb him. The heating was never on in the house until November and it went off again at the end of February as it was just too expensive to have it on all year, so with that he grabbed his bottle and took one up for Harry too.

John gently knocked on Harry’s door expecting her to still be up chatting to some friend or other- Clara - but as he carefully pushed the door open he saw her sound asleep still fully dressed atop her duvet. He noticed the phone by her head still alight and engaged in a call. They had fallen asleep talking to one another. This made John feel a sort of warmth at the fact that Harry had such a good friend who helped her through this ordeal and was there to support her when no one else could, not even John.

He ended the call and rearranged the duvets so she was tucked under them and slid the hot water bottle into her side when he heard a tired mumble.

“Mmm th’ks Johnny.” With that he turned and slipped out of the room, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you anyone how has read this first chapter I know not much happed and there are a few loose ends but they will be picked up later on. I just really wanted to sent a scene for this first chapter. I am not sure when I will post more as I seem to be quite a sporadic writer so please bare with me. Again any and all feedback very welcome!
> 
> Also here is a link to what I kind of had I’m mind while choosing the school uniform so take a look if you like:  
> Formal suit  
> https://share.icloud.com/photos/02Jtsgtlg1DRjpnXMuF2rRY9g  
> “Casual” suit  
> https://hespokestyle.com/wearing-a-suit-without-a-tie/  
> You’ll need to scroll through the site to find a good image and it’s not exactly what I was thinking of but it will do


End file.
